Heart of Gold (Firecats Book 1)

by P. Jameson

  “Let me worry about that,” second voice said, and she heard boots moving toward the bedroom door. “We’ll talk tomorrow on the route. I got us all on the same truck again. Deal?”

  Ratchet must have nodded, because seconds later, she heard the door slam shut. And then silence.

  Hope fluttered in Marlee’s chest. Maybe the girls would be free faster than she’d thought. At least these two from Ratchet’s clan were on board. Desperate even, though she didn’t understand why yet. What was their stake in this? What had them turning against their boss for a few unwanted and forgotten girls like her?

  It was a problem for later.

  Right now, she was just happy someone was fighting for them.

  It seemed like an eternity before he opened the bathroom door, and leaned against the jamb like he was working to keep his distance and the frame was holding him there.

  “Hi,” he said.

  “Hi.”

  “You okay?”

  She nodded. “That was a close call. Are they dangerous?”

  “Yes.”

  She changed her question. “Would they hurt me?”

  His full lips dipped at the corners while he considered it. “I don’t know, lamb. But I’m not taking that chance. From now on, that door stays locked. Shit, they know better than to come into my territory.”

  He was still angry. Furious. She could see it in the way he stood, the snarl on his lips, the way his words came hard. She’d only ever seen him angry once before, that first night in the lounge.

  She took a step closer. Instinct told her if she could touch him, she could tame that anger. Get him back to being her Ratchet.

  “Stay back, Marlee,” he rasped. “You heard what we said about the animals inside us.”

  Was he talking about his crimes? His dark past. The gang life had made him an animal? Taken his humanity and forced him to be cold? Because if that was it, she wasn’t concerned. She’d already seen his heart, and it was good.

  She took another step.

  Not just because he needed her near and she could sense it, but because she needed the touch too. The fear of getting caught was still fresh in her veins. And that adrenaline threatened to toss her stomach. She knew Ratchet could make it better. Like he’d done before.

  Magical.

  In the doorway, he straightened. “I’m not steady right now. The beast inside me wants to do things to you.”

  “What things?”

  “Things that will make you mine,” he said darkly.

  Marlee froze.

  His. It should have crippled her with fear, the idea that she wasn’t her own. But it didn’t. It lit her up inside. Made her achy and needy for him. Like she’d been the night he made her come so hard. He’d damn near healed all the holes in her heart that night. The way he only gave when everyone else—anyone else—would have taken.

  It didn’t make sense, really. It was just fact.

  No matter what happened between them in the future, she would always have a spot in her heart that only belonged to him. The man who gave more than he got.

  She swallowed hard, giving him the rest of herself with two words.

  “Do it.”

  His entire expression crumbled like a brick wall taking a wrecking ball. He shook his head.

  “I want that,” she said, lifting her chin.

  His eyebrows shot up before falling back into the harshest frown. He threw off dominance like he was his own hurricane. She resisted the urge to step back, out of the storm. But the eye was where the calm was. Right in the center of him, that’s where she’d find peace. So she stepped forward.

  “You want me to claim you? Put my mark on you?”

  More of that code talk. Had to be. Because he couldn’t be talking about actually holding an animal inside his body. That would mean he was some otherworldly creature—or partly anyway—and she didn’t believe in the supernatural. Real life was scary enough.

  Magic though, the way fate worked, the way two people’s spirits could call to each other… she believed in that.

  “I want you to heal me.”

  “Marlee…”

  “Do it. Fix me. I know you can. You’ve been doing it little by little this whole time. I feel it. The thing inside me trying to connect broken pieces. You call it a bond.”

  “There are other ways,” he argued. “We don’t have to… I don’t have to… take you.”

  She swallowed back her fear and focused on the burning desire in her center. It was growing into a consuming fire. Her mind fogged with lust at just the idea of him working her body into the kind of frenzy that she’d felt with just his finger.

  “Give more than you get. Right?”

  “Yes,” he grit out.

  Well, she was amending that.

  “Then take what is given. Because it means a hell of a lot when it’s given freely.”

  His eyes flared hot. Did that thing that gave her chills. Like pure desire showing straight through those soul windows.

  “No, no, no,” he breathed, pumping his fists. “Can’t have you, Marlee. Can’t risk you. Can’t hurt you.”

  “It wouldn’t hurt. Not with you. You can show me how.”

  He looked tortured, his face contorting as if in pain. “I’m not gentle,” he rasped.

  “You can be.”

  He shook his head.

  “When you hold me, you do it so easy. So careful. When you touch my skin, it’s with your fingertips. Like I’m…” Her voice cut out. “Like I’m precious.” She mouthed the words, unable to say them out loud.

  Her throat ached. Everything inside throbbed. She felt like if he said no she’d shatter to tiny pieces. She needed this. For him to take all the horrors of the past decade and erase them the way he had her nightmares. There was magic to him. She didn’t understand it, but it was real.

  He shook his head, some battle raging inside. “You’ll regret me. You’ll…”

  “Please!” she cried. And damn it, she could feel the wetness under her lids. The moment was heavy with what this would mean for them. “Don’t say no. I need this. Put… put me back together.”

  He crowded her slowly, but she let him. His shaking hands brushed her hair back, and trembling so hard, he cradled her cheek. “Okay. Okay, lamb. I can be soft for you.”

  It sounded like a promise. And it came from somewhere deep. Like he’d just made a decision about her. Them. The future. Something.

  “I’m going to kiss you,” he warned. “Tell me when you want me to stop.”

  She shivered, her body trembling with anticipation.

  “What if I never want you to?” she whispered.

  Ratchet groaned. “You’re fucking killing me, lamb. Do you know how hard I want to take you?”

  His thumb swept over her cheek, still gentle, but his fingers dug into her jaw letting her know he was barely holding back.

  “How I want to master every part of your body until it knows me so well you go all wet when I so much as breathe on you.”

  Slowly, a hand slid around her waist, fingers splayed wide like he was trying to increase contact, touch her as many places as possible with one sweep, before coming to stop on her lower back, his middle finger resting at the top of her crack.

  “Wanna make you moan those sweet whimpers you made the first time you let me touch you. Because fuck, baby… I’ve been aching to hear those again. But how am I supposed to go easy when you’re saying things like this? Hm?”

  Marlee chugged for oxygen. Even gentle, Ratchet was intense.

  “You’ll find a way,” she managed. Because this was it. She was giving him all.

  He dipped his head, brushing lips over hers in a sweeping motion as he backed her into the bathroom, stopping just as her butt hit the counter. He licked at the seam of her lips, begging for entrance. It was so soft she went liquid. Turned right to mush with him holding her. Melted good, and all she could think about was what his soft, capable tongue would feel like down there.

&nbs
p; She opened with a gasp and he pressed in, swirling his tongue with hers. They danced. Softly, tentatively. And she took the lead for a second, wanting him to go harder. Wanting more of him. She could hardly remember how to kiss, but she hoped he liked what she was doing.

  He pulled back with a hard suck to her bottom lip, his mouth glistening wet from what they’d done. His breath washed over her face making chills break out all over her skin.

  “Goddamn it,” he husked. “Your kiss is so fucking sweet, lamb. Never had a kiss that sweet. Making my fucking knees weak, and I thought that was all bullshit. You’re going to be sweet all over, aren’t you? Sweet tits for me to suck. Sweet ass for me to bite. Sweet pussy for me to lick.” He groaned, taking her mouth again. Softly again. Like this was new to him, and he loved new things. While her heart thundered at his blunt words and she moaned into his mouth.

  How did he make dirty talk sound like poetry?

  He pulled back, brow furrowed as he stared at her chest hungrily. A beast wanting to devour and savor at the same time. Like he was debating the fastest but least frightening way of getting her shirt off.

  How was a man like this, rough and wounded and hard, this thoughtful?

  But the answer was screaming through her mind already, pounding in the hollow of her chest. Because he cares. He’s different with you because he loves you.

  She solved the problem for him by lifting the shirt over her head and tossing it to the floor, leaving her completely exposed. Leftover bruises, scars, and all.

  And she held her breath.

  Ratchet stared, his eyes going lusty as he moved his hand over curves, hovering just over her skin but not touching. She felt it though, chills rocketing up her spine.

  “Mine,” he said, and she gave him a nod that felt so right.

  When his touch finally made contact with her skin it was like an electric shock, drawing another moan from her lips. He grazed up her stomach, over her sternum, avoiding her breasts until he reached her throat. Softly, he curved his hand around it, his thumb pressing in under her jaw. His eyes snapped up to hers, asking a question. Or… demanding something.

  Trust.

  She swallowed, holding very still. And he didn’t squeeze. He just kept his hand there. A test. Which she must have passed because he dove in for another lush kiss.

  And then his hands were all over her. Gentle and probing, squeezing. Nails scraping. Callouses making desire pool wet and hot between her legs.

  Ratchet lowered his head to her collarbone, licking and nipping it with the soft pads of his lips. Nothing hurt. It only felt good. Soul food times a zillion.

  She watched, panting as he went lower, giving her breast the same treatment before he sucked her hard nipple into his mouth making her cry out. Her hands flew to his hair, tangling in the blond tresses until he looked up at her.

  His eyes looked feral, staring at her, his mouth still sucking and lapping at her sensitive bud. She couldn’t look away. They were locked as his hand continued roaming her body, feeling every uncovered part of her.

  He tugged at her pants until the front was low enough for him to touch her like he had before. He slipped one finger between her slick folds, using the waistband to keep the pressure there as he moved back and forth against her clit. Which felt like it was on fire and he had the only way of extinguishing it.

  Damn it though. He was talented. He never even stopped sucking her.

  Could she be enough for him like she was?

  She pulled at his shirt, needing to feel his skin, the strong muscles he held in check to make her comfortable.

  Maybe he didn’t need to do that anymore. Maybe she was strong enough to meet him halfway.

  But he slid out of her grasp, going to his knees between her legs and sliding her pants all the way down and off her feet.

  “I like you not wearing panties. Never wear panties again.”

  “Mmmm.” She’d agree to almost anything right now. And panties were an extravagance she’d done without for too long anyway.

  He gripped her hips and pressed his nose just under her belly button, dragging downward on a long inhale. He exhaled a deep groan and continued over to the crease of her thigh, breathing her in.

  “Love your scent. My animal loves it too. Even better after it’s mixed with mine.”

  Marlee shivered. It was such a carnal thing to say. She… liked it.

  “Up on the counter,” he commanded.

  She scooted her butt up, ignoring the cold surface. Were they doing this in here? Did she care where they were? No. Not really.

  But before she could say anything, he palmed her thighs, spreading her legs wide and gave a slow, soft lick up her center.

  A gasp shot from her throat causing her to choke on her own breath. Holy hell. Oh god. That was even better than she could have imagined.

  She both felt and heard Ratchet’s hungry snarl against her tender flesh as he threw her legs up over his broad shoulders and settled in. He sucked and lapped at her, thrusting with his tongue, every motion making her suck in too much air until she felt lightheaded.

  Her palm hit the surface of the surface of the counter with a smack and her hips bucked against his mouth as she spiraled out of control, her release hitting her harder than a wrecking ball and doing just as much damage.

  “Can’t breathe,” she wheezed. “Can’t… can’t…”

  Ratchet stood, his expression looking wicked. Like he’d meant to ruin her lungs. He let off a low growl that sounded anything but human, but the way his arms circled her reminded her who he was. Protective, careful Ratchet.

  “Mmm, I felt you come undone on my mouth, lamb. Tasted it. Last chance to say no.”

  He found her gaze. His seemed to glow. If fire could be blue that would be his eyes.

  She found enough breath to hiss, “Yessss.” More. If her body needed oxygen it could just faint or something.

  Ratchet pulled his shirt over his head in one smooth jerk, and shook his hair back from his face.

  Lion.

  The word whispered through her mind.

  He reminded her of a lion. Fierce and deadly, but somehow soft for his lamb.

  He never took his eyes off her as he undid his belt with sharp motions. And then his button… and the zipper. He let his jeans fall down his hips, gripping his huge erection in his fist.

  Marlee stared down at it. God, it was thick. What would that feel like deep inside? She wondered if he’d let her do what he just did to her. She wanted to taste.

  “Touch it, Marlee,” he groaned.

  She wrapped her fingers around him. He was scalding hot and smooth. “Like this?”

  “Fuck. Perfect,” he huffed. Good. She was taking his breath away too.

  She ran her hand along his length. Up and then back down.

  “Last chance,” he reminded.

  “I want you.” Did she ever. She was sawing her knees against his hips wanting more.

  His gaze went soft and he kissed her. A noise in his throat that reminded her of purring, had her feeling wild.

  He slipped his hardness up and down her folds like a sweet warning about the invasion she was about to get.

  He pushed in slowly, watching their connection while she panted through the sensations. He stretched her to the point of pain, but she didn’t want to give up. So when he pulled back too soon, she let off a volley of unintelligible objections.

  “Shh. You’re tight, baby. Can’t hurt you. Gotta be slow. Gotta be careful this time.” His words were short, muttered like a mantra he was determined to follow.

  In and out, he moved, making progress with each stroke until he was buried completely inside her and both of them were sweating with the effort of holding back. He held her close, letting her body get used to him. But she was already so close to her next orgasm, her muscles were clenching on him.

  She moved her hips to urge him on, and he got the message. Inching out and pressing back in, watching her face the whole time.

  �
�I never wanted anyone like you, like this. Soft like this. Never until you.” He held her hips, grinding in and out, bringing her closer with each push. “And now I want you slow, fast, hard, sore, again and again, a million ways. Every morning, every night. I’m never going to want to stop, lamb. Look what you’re doing to me.”

  But he would if she told him to. And that was why she trusted him. Why she… cared for him. Loved him?

  “Don’t want you to stop,” she breathed against his cheek, and he moved faster at her words.

  “You say the sweetest… fucking… things,” he grunted with each push.

  And the farther they went, the more patched up her past became. Until it felt like a bad memory. One she could turn her back on, and forget as she moved forward.

  There was hope. Maybe it was silly, but with every reminder of their physical connection, Bastian and his cruel ways faded to the background. And in his place, was the reality that she could make something beautiful of her stolen life. Starting now. All she had to do was try. Fight back against the ones who wanted to hurt her. Cling to the ones who didn’t. And face her fears like Ratchet showed her.

  “More,” she whispered, digging her nails into his shoulder, and throwing her head back to feel his mouth on her neck.

  “Fucking beautiful, Marlee,” he murmured, measured thrusts pushing her forward. “That’s what you are. So damn beautiful like this.”

  Another drag and push of his body in hers was all she could take. She cried out as pleasure wracked her body making every nerve ending vibrate. She was shaking apart from the inside and Ratchet didn’t stop. Didn’t rush. He kept his slow pace dragging out every wicked sensation, making her feel like this orgasm would never end.

  And then with a satisfied growl, she felt him explode, hot jets pumping inside her. Emotions battered her, so many she couldn’t sort them out. But the strongest of them was… good.

  This was what feeling good—truly good—was like. And Ratchet had given it to her.

  Somehow, she was going to pay him back for it.

  This time, not because she owed anyone. But because she wanted to.

  Because she was choosing to.

  Her choice. For the first time ever.

  Chapter Sixteen